


The Three-Eyed Raven

by LLN3dseestheLight



Series: The Wolves of Westros [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 07:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14420304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLN3dseestheLight/pseuds/LLN3dseestheLight
Summary: The surviving Starks change their past hopefully for the better but when one plays the game of thrones nothing is certain.





	1. Bran Stark

Bran Stark stared into the flames that flickered in the hearth. The winds of the last winter storm blow, rattling the shutters, sounding like the mournful howls of the wolves that lived in the dense forest just along the borders of Winterfell. He straightens the blanket that was over his useless legs; Bran rolled, the highly polished acorn between his fingers and along with his palm. The shell shone with bright red and gold highlights, glowing with an unnatural sheen marking it as something as... _other._

Something it shared in common with its siblings, who lay in the hands of the Kings and Queens of the North and South. They held a compelling promise of things to change. They had been the result of almost ten years worth of study, experiments and learning about his powers as the Three-Eyed Raven. The ability to stop the loses they had suffered, the bloodshed they had seen. The power to change the past lay in five small acorns- And they didn't want it!

Didn't Bran understand why? They had lost so much, had suffered so many terrible things, as pawns in someone else's game. When Bran had given Jon and Sansa their acorns and explained what they could do, they had said nothing only looked at him sadly as if he were the one that didn't understand. Gendry had just given a thoughtful look, before handing it to Arya, shaking his head and walking out of the room. It had been his sister; it had been Arya of all people who said to him,

 " _Bran, none of us want to change the past. Despite the things, we have seen and done. We have some measure of peace **now**. Something which was hard won. We still stand, Lannisters, Freys, Targaryens, even the Night King could not make us bow- We are content with our actions of the past, for it put us all on our path..."_

Paths that had led Jon Snow to the Wall and later to discover that he was not a Stark but a Targaryen. Jon Snow who had become King of the North. For Sansa Stark to have a fake marriage to a Lannister and hide as an enemy’s bastard daughter. With the death of the Dragon Queen and her children at the hands of the Night King, sacrificed in a play to defeat him, victory over the White Walkers came soon after. Sansa had married Jon and became Queen of the North.

Though a series of events, that to this day still confused Bran, though he watched it all unfold with his visions. Arya Stark had become a Faceless Man and then she put the bastard son of Robert Baratheon, Gendry Waters, on the Iron Throne and in doing so she became the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, **_She Who Guards The Iron Throne._**

_"...to find our place in this harsh, cruel world."_

Bran's hand tightened around the acorn suddenly. Arya didn't understand! None of them did! They didn't realize what it was like to be trapped day after day endless day, in a prison from which there was no escape. To have to depend on others for tasks that most people could do easily. To be able to walk across the room? To ride a horse, go upstairs without being carried- to fuck his wife! These were the things he was not able to do.

Would never be able to do.

 _Gods_ did Bran ever regret climbing the tower that day; he bore witness to the sins of the Lannisters. Crimes that still haven't been paid for in full, for the Kingslayer, the one that pushed him from that window? That he lived in Arya's court as her husband's Hand, why Arya let that viper so close to the Throne, to her self to her husband. Bran didn't understand.

It was one of the many things that he didn't.

Bran squeezed the acorn in his hand; perhaps he should ask Meera? His lady wife did seem to understand all those things he didn't. Meera Reed knew about all the things he didn't. His lovely wife, who he would never be able to give a child to, could never know in the way most men knew their wives. Sometimes Bran wondered if Meera had married him _because_ he could never touch her in that way? But he wanted to... _gods_ , did he ever wish too! But his body wasn't capable of that no matter how much he wanted it was it didn't stop the desire he had for his wife. If anything, it made it worst. Bran frowned when he heard a quiet _cracking_ noise of something breaking. For a moment he thought it to be one of the logs in the hearth until he felt the white-hot heat in his hand, he looked down to see the light glowing between his clenched fingers. Slowly he uncurled his fingers from around the small acorn to see the glowing white light shining through the cracks made in the bright red- gold shell.

_In a small jewelry box belonging to the Queen of the North, two small acorns sat, their highly polished shells, cracked, and a glowing white light one could have seen if someone had opened the jewelry box._

_In a small toolbox kept in the Royal Forge, on a shelf near the work area only the King of the South used when he felt the call to create, to forge things of beauty, of function, were two small acorns. That suddenly cracked and glowed with white light, that could have been seen if someone had opened the toolbox._

Bran's last thought was, _that wasn't supposed to happen..._ before everything black.

***

Bran woke to the sound of his sister's screams. He rolled out of bed and hit the floor with a hard thump, he lay there breathless and confused while he stared at the ceiling. Bran felt strange and wrong as his legs spasm for a long painfully moment before he sat up. He grabbed the side of his bed and pulled himself up. Trying to get his feet under him, Bran was surprised when it worked and how...oh, that's what was strange he could _feel_ his legs again!

Bran stood, but when he tried to move, he found that he couldn't. He didn't remember how to make his _legs_ , his _feet_ work. Bran took a deep breath and cleared his mind, while his head might have forgotten how to walk? His body knew how to _move_. Bran knew it did. So, Bran is just _moving_ -letting his body re-teach his mind. By the time Bran got to his bedchamber door? His gait was smooth if a bit uneven. Once Bran was out of it, Bran found himself running, _running_ , down the hall to his sister's room.

The moment Bran entered his sisters' room, Arya wrapped her hands around his throat. _This was going to be painful,_ Bran thought, and he was right. When she threw him up against the wall of the room, Bran barely noted that Sansa just stared at him coldly from the bed or that his _father_ , _mother_ , and Jon rushed into the room. Bran was having a hard time breathing because Arya was squeezing his throat, her fingers on pressure points that could kill him if she or he moved an inch.

"What have you done!" Arya hissed, deadly, into his ear, her gray eyes wild and on the edge of insanity. "Why did you take _him_ from me!"

Bran had forgotten how closely Arya's sanity is tied to her husband; he choked out her name. He barely heard the shouts of his parents, but he heard Jon as he commanded Arya to let him go. Arya rarely listened to Jon before so it was unlikely she was going to do so now.

"He can't tell us what he did if you kill him, Arya," Sansa said getting out of the bed and walking over to stand to behind Arya, their mother making shocked sounds because Jon was in the room while Sansa was in her night clothes.

"I know what he did!" Arya snarled, "the proof of that is standing in this room! You know what he did! I want to know _why_!"

"Accident, Arya," Bran breathed out, "Didn't mean too."

"Do you know how many accidents end with the words _'I didn't mean too_?' Why?!"

"Meera..."He could have said several different things, but that was Bran's choked reply. Arya gazed into his eyes, and Bran knew, _he knew,_ Arya would see the truth of the matter.

She always could.

Arya's expression darkened, and her lips curled into a snarl, "Tell me you didn't do it because of that!" Her hands tightened around Bran's throat. When his expression didn't change, and he said nothing in his defense, "Oh, you did!" Arya raged at him, as she began to slam his head into the wall behind him, "You," _slam_ , "selfish," _slam_ , "selfish," _slam_ , "boy..."

Bran was glad when his father and Jon dragged Arya off of him. His head is pounding from Arya’s attack, but at least he could catch his breath. Which didn't last long because Arya shoved her elbow into Jon's stomach causing him to yelp in pain? She kicks out a leg, her foot hitting the back of their father's knee causing him to go down, as she grabbed the dagger from their father's belt, shaking off their hands as she did so. Twisting as quick a snake evading their attempts to catch her as she put the dagger to Bran's throat, their mother let out a scream.

"Give me one reason, just one, as to why I shouldn't slit your throat, brother. For sending us back into this hell." Arya snarled.

"We can save them!" Bran whispered out passionately, for he always believed that. Believed that he, Jon and his sisters could save their Father, Mother, Robb, and Rickon from their fates.

"No! We can't!" Sansa cried, unshed tears in her eyes as she avoided looking at their parents, "While their lost broke our hearts," broke them, really, "it was also the _making_ of us!"

"I missed them as much as you do, Bran, but my-" Jon cut himself off with a sorrowful look at Sansa who only nodded back. "Sansa is right."

Arya narrowed her eyes; Bran could see she was thinking it through, she knew the truth of it. "Oh, little brother didn't bring us back here for any reason so noble as to save them," the dagger pressed harder into Bran's neck, he could feel the sharp sting where it cut into him. "Did you, Bran? No, of course not. Still bitter about being trapped in that chair? No, this is about not being able to _fuck_ that pretty, pretty wife of yours, isn't it?"

"Arya!" Sansa snapped, "Manners!" Arya only rolled her eyes at Sansa, "And remove that dagger from Bran's throat. You're going to send our Mother into a panic."

Bran glanced over at his mother and saw she was pale with worry and wished he cared? He frowned, this was what he wanted. To have them back, so why wasn't be happy to see them? Why was it when he looked at his Father, his Mother, all he saw were ghosts?

His father stepped up and reached out to touch Arya, but Jon moved quickly grabbing their father's wrist before he could. At Ned Stark's shocked look of surprise,

"That would not be wise," Jon said softly, firmly.

Yes, Bran thought, when Arya got like this no one could touch her without losing a body part. Except for one person and he wasn't here. No, that person was somewhere in King's Landing right now, if Bran remembered it right.

" _Someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on here_!" Ned Stark said in a commanding voice getting all of his children's attention.

Arya dropped back from Bran removing the dagger from his throat but not letting it go. She sighed, "Do it, Bran."

Bran froze, "Are you sure?" he looked over to Sansa and Jon both of them nodded.

"They need to know," Jon said.

"What if it doesn't change anything?" Bran muttered because it was possible this was nothing but a fool's wish.

Sansa laughed coldly making Bran flinch he hadn't heard that tone from her since she killed that bastard, Ramsey Bolton, "You should have thought of that before you broke the acorn, little brother. We are here now. Might as well do what we can to stop what is to come. If we even can. Besides mother and father need to know why Jon must become the King of the North." She looked over at their parents, "Winter Is Coming, and the Long Night will soon be here."

Bran closed his eyes with a long sigh. He reached down inside himself glad to find his power there waiting for him like it always has he wrapped his fingers around it and tugged on it, the power responded like a loyal and dangerous pet and is leaping into his grip at his command. When he opened his eyes, he heard his mother gasp in surprise and his father's exclamation of shock at the sight of them, as they glowed a bright brilliant _white_. Bran turned his gaze to his father, his mother, and his siblings. Bran sighed again when he heard their bodies hit the floor all of them unconscious as he dragged them all into the _Dreaming_.

 

 

 


	2. Ned Stark

Ned Stark opened his eyes to a vast expansion of utter whiteness; it wasn't the white of snow, it was too bright and too harsh on the eyes to be snow, yet, it reminded him of it in its purity. Flakes of snow fell all around them, but when they landed on the ground, it disappeared. Carefully he sat up and looked around he saw his wife slowing sitting up as well, she looked around confused before asking,

"Where are we, Ned?"

Ned shook his head, "I- I don't know." He said getting to his feet helping to hold out a hand to his wife. Her grip tightened around the shawl she wore over her nightclothes before reaching out to grab her hand and helping to bring his wife to her feet. The stark whiteness around them made Catelyn's long loose hair glow like fire in a hearth. He took a moment to appreciate how lovely the sight of it was.

"You are in... well, I call it the _Dreaming_ ," a male voice said from behind them.

Ned turned to see, a youth sitting in a strange wooden chair with iron wheels on it. His clothing was finely made but rough of a Northern lord’s. His brown hair overlong and touched by fire in some places through it. The young man’s gray eyes were cold and flat as ice. It was his son, _Bran_ , Ned realized. He would know a child of his anywhere.

"Why have you brought us here?" Catelyn asked, fear and wonder, coloring her voice as she looked around.

Bran's expression was impassive as he said, "There are things you must see, must learn, for the Game of Thrones is about to begin. You must enter the game as kings and queens, less you want to be as pawns in the game. There are secrets and sins you must know... 

" _Secrets_ ," Another male voice repeated. A man with black longish curly black hair, a scruffy black beard on his chin and a simple sliver crown circle sat upon his head. He dressed in the finery that mimicked the dress of the ancient Northerner kings, wearing a thick heavy looking cloak made of black and white furs. It took a moment for Ned to realize who stood before him, that it was _Jon_. Mostly because the expression on the man's face was nothing like Jon Snow's one of brooding, and unhappiness, Ned could see this man, no, this king, had known loses, love and war had taken a toll on this man.

This man seemed unbroken and unbowed.

"Like the fact I'm not a Stark but a Targaryen. Am I not the son of your sister, Lyanna and her Targaryen husband?"

Ned frowned. There was no way the boy could know that. It was his best-kept secret. It had to be, or it would have meant the boy's death. He'd barely been able to convince Robert Baratheon to spare the younger siblings of the Targaryen prince that had stolen Lyanna Stark.

"Ned?" Cat asked, looking at him. Before he could answer another voice, female this time,

" _Sins_ ," a soft female voice said, the woman who appeared from the mist dressed in the finery worthy of a Northerner Queen of old.

An equal match that of Jon.

The woman's fire colored hair shimmered and glowed in their Northern braids. Her face pale and regal, this was a woman that had known the pain and loss but had overcome them. One her head was a silver circle that matched Jon's, her dress was black and gray, over her shoulder her heavy cloak made of pure white fur. Making her blend into the landscape at times as if she was a secret this place was trying to hide. _No_ , Ned realized as he watched as Jon held out a hand to her and she placed her palm on the back of his hand. _Protect_ , was a better word for it. _Sansa_ , Ned thought, his little Sansa was as beautiful as the winter sunrise. His daughter and nephew are looking defiantly at them.

Sansa turned to Jon and bowing her head as she said, "My King."

"My Queen," Jon said to Sansa, a slight smirk coming to his lips at Cat's gasp of surprise.

While it wasn't unusual for a man to marry his cousin in the north or even among the noble houses, it was something the Starks tried to avoid. But with all the inbreeding among the Noble Houses, it did happen every once in a while. Ned was sure his wife was about to say something she shouldn't. But then Cat surprised him when she kept her silence and only looked at Jon and Sansa with a displeased gaze. Ned was sure he should be the one to ask about this, the hows and whys of it but before he could, another female voice rang out.

" _Secrets and Sins, secrets and sins..."_ Another woman appeared, for a moment Ned was sure he was looking at his sister, Lyanna Stark reborn but knew this to be his youngest daughter. She was wearing a Southern-style dress made of exquisite yellow silk, trimmed in black, at the neck decorating it were black acorn tops; her hair was braided in a simple one to the side, a crown of delicate gold oak leaves woven through her dark hair on top of her head.

Ned looked again, and he could see the differences and knew this to be _Arya_ , his little Arya. She did, and about-face and Ned saw the clothes she was wearing changed into those favored in the Free Cities. Plain and course but functional brown pants and a light jacket, her hair still in the same side braid and at her hip was still Needle; she brought a finger to her lips, or to _where her lips should be_ , Ned looked on in horror at the sight of Arya. His daughter had _no face_! Then the woman grabbed the edge of her chin and pulled like she was removing a mask, something looking like dead skin hanging in her hand as Arya smirked smugly before doing another about-face and once more back into the yellow silk dress with the crown of golden oak-leaved in her dark hair.

"Now you and mother will _see..."_ Bran said.

Ned blinked,

_Bran climbed the most significant tower in Winterfell. Bran knew that he wasn't suppose too. He had repeatedly been told not to climb so high by his mother. When he got to the window, he heard strange sounds, grunts, and moans. Bran peaked into the window, and Bran saw, The Kingslayer and the Queen, their clothes in disarray and as the Kingslayer kissed the Queen's neck. The Queen looked up suddenly,_

_"Jamie! Jamie! He saw us!"_

_The Kingslayer calmed the Queen and coached young Bran to him, Bran lost his footing and about fell, but Lannister grabbed him by the shirt. "That's a long way down, boy."_

_Bran looked over his shoulder, nodding._

_"Do something, Jamie!" The Queen yelled._

_Jamie Lannister gave Young Bran a look he and sighed, "The things I do for love..." then he shoved Bran out of the window._

Ned barely heard Catelyn's cry at the sight of seeing Bran fall. Young Bran may not have understood what he was seeing, but Ned did. He saw two people committing treason against his king, as well as engaging in the act of incest.

"This is where it started, you see, it was the first act of war against our family," Bran said, softly. "The thing was? They could have told me anything about what and why they were there, what they were doing and I would have believed them. I wouldn't have known any better. I would never have said anything about what I saw...but they chose..." Bran shook his head.

Ned blinked, he saw images of how his Catelyn fought off the man who would have murdered Bran, how Theon Greyjoy betrayed them, the sack of Winterfell and young Bran's escape with Hodor, Osha, Rickon and their dire wolves.

_Bran stood in the forest; an arrow pointed at a three-eyed raven. He could hear his brothers giving him advice and laughing when he missed his target. Then his father's voice a upon the wind. Bran woke with a jolt, cold and lying in a pile of furs._

_Osha is staring into the distance, while Summer growled. The Wildling woman muttered something and ran off. Bran watched until he lost sight of her. Summers growls got louder, and louder; Bran frowned as he watched a figure emerged from the misty snow and shadows of the forest like a haunting. It was a boy, maybe only a couple of years older than himself, he was tall with curly sandy blond hair, bright emerald eyes that had a sad and solemn look in them. As if they had seen far too much for a boy his age should have or could have._

_"You can't kill it, you know." the boy said in a soft, amused tone of voice._

_Bran blinked at the handsome boy stupidly, not even having to wonder what the boy was speaking; Bran knew this boy. He had seen him in his dreams, "Why not?"_

_"Because the raven is you, it's always you," the boy stated plainly._

_The boy started to step forward but froze when he felt the tip of the spear Osha was pointing at the back of his neck. "I'm unarmed," he said never losing the amusement in his voice._

_"That was poor planning on your part." Osha snarled._

_The boy told her, "My sister carries the weapons." Bran watched with wide eyes, a pretty girl with dark curly hair and eyes the same green colored eyes as the boy grabbed Osha by the hair, she put a knife to the Wildling woman's throat. The girl looked to be the same age or slightly older than the boy. "She's better with them anyway."_

_"Drop the spear," the girl hissed into Osha's ear. Osha looked for a moment like she didn't want to comply but the girl tugged harshly on Osha's hair. "Drop it!"_

_Osha did so._

_"You must be Summer," Jojen said holding his hand out to the growling dire wolf fearlessly. Summer slowly stopped growling as he sniffed the boy's hand. Summer gave a small whine before promptly ignoring the taller boy. "I'm Jojen Reed; this is my sister, Meera. We've come a long way to find you, Brandon and we have much farther to go."_

The vision froze for a moment; then it began to disappear, the last to faded entirely away was the image of Jojen Reed. Ned barely had time to take a breath before another vision began.

_"When my father died, I dreamed it," Bran said from his seat in the cart that Hodor was pulling. Jojen walked behind it and farther back was Meera and Osha. Rickon was off somewhere with Shaggydog and Summer. Bran wasn't too worried; the boy and wolves would catch up to them when they made camp for the night. They always did._

Ned was surprised to hear he was dead, yet not really.

_"You didn't dream it," Jojen corrected, " you saw it. So, did I."_

_"You have the sight too?" Bran, that was a stupid question, he knew. How else did this boy know of his dreams?_

_Jojen nodded, "When I told my father about your father, for the first time in my life, I saw him cry."_

_"Your father is Howland Reed?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"He saved my father's life during the rebellion," Bran told him with a slightly sad smile._

_"Your father told you about the rebellion?" Jojen asked. He smiled that mysterious smile he likes to wear, when he knew something Bran didn't, " Mine never did. But I saw that, too."_

_"What else have you seen?" Bran asked wanting to know if this boy saw the same things he did._

_"The only thing that matters... you." Jojen softly._

_With those words, Bran lost his heart to this mysterious boy._

The vision froze again, Ned saw but this time the Bran in the cart aged rapidly to match the one that was in the chair with wheels, Ned watched as the young man pushed aside the furs and stood up from the cart. He walked a few steps until he stood in front of the Reed boy.

Bran reached out a hand and touched Jojen's cheek. It was the type of touch one would share with a lover, to Ned's surprise. Ned watched as his son drew in a ragged breath as if holding back a sob of pain, "I _forgot_ just how beautiful _he_ was...How he was the only one who understood me," Bran whispered, grief-stricken, "I only _ever_ wanted to keep him near me. But Jojen knew, he _always_ knew. More than me. That I was destined to lose him..."

Ned watched, as another vision appeared.

_Ice and snow, of a great tree with orange leaves, and Hodor fighting corpses with a wood-cutting axe, Jojen laying in the snow bleeding from wounds to his stomach, the dead closing in around him, as Meera held him. Bran couldn't hear what Jojen said to his sister. Not with Bran warging Hodor. He fought this way closer but Meera's eyes filled with unshed tears as she pulled a knife and slit her brother's throat giving him that **mercy** before running after Hodor who Bran had lost control of the moment he realized Jojen was dead._

_Hodor had grabbed a now screaming Bran, and they ran to the tree. The small child-like beings were flinging fireballs at the corpses. One of the fireballs hit Jojen's body and set it ablaze._

Then the vision faded. Ned blinked to see Bran now sitting once more in his wheeled chair. Bran looked up at his father with wet eyes, "Osha had taken Rickon to Castle Black or at least she was supposed too. Before that happened, somehow he ended back at Winterfell and was killed by the Boltons." Bran murmured. "The Children of the Forest taught me much and led me to the Three-Eyed Raven, but we lost Hodor and Summer on the way..."

Ned blinked again as a vision of a room appeared, this version of his son older, yet younger than the one who had spoken. He sat in a wheeled chair by a hearth with a roaring fire a blanket thrown over his legs.

_Bran looked away from the fire as the door opened to the room and Meera stepped inside. "You're leaving?" Bran asked her, though he knew the answer. Of course, she was leaving him. She had no reason to stay anymore. Bran had returned to his family; he was now the Three-Eyed Raven. Meera Reed had lost enough because of him, Bran knew._

_"I don't want to leave you," Meera said, softly, unsurely. " You're safe...safe as anyone can be in these times. You don't need me anymore."_

_"No. I don't." Bran told her flatly. It would be better this way. Meera didn't know how well he had come to love her. Bran couldn't take any more from this woman; she had to give him so much already. Her brother, so many years of her life. If she knew how he felt she would stay and Bran wasn't sure what he would do if she did._

_"That's all you've got to say?" Meera asked shocked at his cold tone._

_Bran knew his coldness after everything thing they had been through; it would cause her pain. But he was sure she would heal from it once she was far from him. "Thank you," was all Bran said to her._

_"Thank you?" Meera asked, confused._

_"For helping me."_

_"My brother died for you! Hodor and Summer died for you! I almost died for you! Bran..." Meera exclaimed, growing angry._

_"I'm not," Bran said shaking his head, "Not really. Not anymore. I remember what if felt like **to be** Brandon Stark. But I remember so much else now." _

_Meera began to cry, "You really **did** die in that cave," she muttered wiping angrily at her eyes as she turned to leave she opened the door. _

_Bran frowned when the ghostly image of Jojen appeared before beside Meera, "Wait!" Bran called out, looking at Jojen, yet it was Meera who froze by the door. "If you leave, I'll forget **who** Brandon Stark is, was, or could have been." _

_Jojen only shook his head and pointed at his sister. Bran knew what the ghost was demanding of him. To take care of Meera, the way she had taken care of them. To protect her, the way she had them. To love **her** they way Bran had once loved Jojen. Bran look at Meera, looked and was surprised when he saw the love in her green eyes, in eyes that were the same color as Jojen's. Bran closed his own for a moment. When he looked back at Jojen, he smiled that mysterious smile, the one that use to drive Bran crazy when he was younger, before fading from Bran's sight. Bran knew that would be the last time he would see his friend. _

_"Bran?"_

_Bran took a deep breath, holding out a hand to her, "Stay, stay with me, Meera." Because he did love this woman, maybe not in the way he had loved her brother but he loved her all the same and as deep. Meera walked over to Bran and took his hand, he pulled her into his lap and pushed her long curly hair out of her eyes, "Promise me, you'll stay?"_

_"I promise," Meera whispered._

_The vision broke apart-_

Ned blinked and rubbed his face wiping away the tears from his cheeks. He looked over at Catelyn to see she was in the same state. Bran, broken by the events he had lived through and the losses he had suffered. Ned was glad that Bran had been able to open his heart to that girl, to love her.

Ned wanted to speak to effort his son some comfort, but before he could, Jon stepped forward, and said, "My turn."

_______  
_______


	3. Ned Stark

_"Let me give you some advice, bastard." The man he knew, as the Imp said, as he took a drink from his flask, " Never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor and it can never be used to hurt you."_

_"What the hell do you know about being a bastard?" Jon Snow growled, hating the fact this noble born man giving him advice on being about being a bastard. What would a nobleman's son know about that?_   
  
_"All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes." Tyrion Lannister told him sadly before offering his flask to Jon._

_Jon looked at the short man for a long moment before he reached out and took the flask._

Ned wondered at the moment of understanding between the two different men, yet, who were alike in their circumstance. Neither one showed any kindness by the world at large.

_Jon, Sam, and more of the Night's Watch look how the corpses of Othor and Jafer are being burnt._

_"They were touched by White Walkers. That's why they came back. That's why their eyes turned blue. Only fire will stop them." Sam Tarly said, his tone worried._

_The men of the Watch turned to look at the chubby man._

_"How do you know that?" Jon asked._

_"I read about it in a book... an ancient book in Maester Aemon's library," Sam said, clutching a book in his arms tightly to his chest._

_"What else did the book say?"_

_"The White Walkers have slept beneath the ice for thousands of years. And when they wake up..." Sam trailed off, a scared expression on his face._

_"And when they wake up...what?" Jon prompted his friend._

_Sam hesitated, "I hope the Wall is high enough."_

_They look up at the massive wall made of ice and ancient magic._

 

Ned couldn't believe he had sent his son; no the boy was his nephew to the Wall. Nor the fact the White Walkers were real. But they were.

 

_Ygritte lays dying in Jon's arms, "Jon Snow," she says._

_"Hush. Don't talk." Jon said softly, knowing she was dying and that there was nothing he could do for the first woman he had ever loved. At least he convinced himself what he feels for her **is** love though he wasn't sure if it had been. _

_"Do you remember the cave?" Ygritte asked. Yes, Jon remembered, being closer to her than any other human being he could remember. He remembered sex and words of passion._

_"We should have stayed in that cave," Ygritte told him. And Jon agreed. Life had been perfect in that cave. He hadn't wanted that time to end. As all things must, it had. He wondered if she had forgiven him his betrayals and mistakes?_

_"We'll go back there," Jon promised her, knowing it was a lie._

_"You know nothing, Jon Snow," Ygritte said, quietly as she choked on her blood, from the arrow wound to her lung that had filled with her blood._

_Jon kissed her on the forehead as she died in his arms. He would have to make sure all the bodies of this...idiocy, was burnt. He had no desire to fight a dead version of the fire-haired woman he had cared about so deeply._

Ned could only feel heartbreak for his son as he watched the woman his son loved as she died.

 

_The men of the Night's Watch yelled, "For the Watch," and "Death to the Traitor," as they stabbed Jon Snow to death._

Catelyn cried out and threw herself into her husband’s arms, as Ned muttered, "They killed our boy, Cat," over and over again.

 

_Jon walked away from the dead bodies hanging behind him, the Red Priestess smirked, she followed after him. One of the men stopped Jon and asked,_

_"What of your Vows?"_

_Jon glared at him, "I died, my watch is now over."_

Ned heard the horns blow,

 

_Jon walked out of the room and out to the courtyard of Castle Black. He saw the three newcomers, a tall mannish woman with short blonde hair, another man and... a woman with fire touched hair... Sansa... She turned and looked up at him, and he knew the hopeful amazed looked on her face matched his own. Jon walked down to meet her and Sansa raced to him and threw her arms around his neck. All Jon could do was to hold his sister to him thanking the old gods and the new that she was still alive._

Ned watched as his two children put the past behind them and talk about retaking the North from the Boltons.

 

_"Once we have Winterfell, " Sansa whispered, "we have the North. Only then will we be safe."_

_Jon nodded reluctantly._

Ned sighed and wondered just how much more this horror his children would suffer.

_After taking back Winterfell with the help of the Wildlings, and losing Rickon to an arrow from Ramsey Bolton, Jon could only smile when he remembers how Sansa had feed the man to his own dogs. He wasn't sure what happened between Sansa and her husband, but Jon was sure it hadn't been anything good. Not if what was left of the man who had once been Theon Greyjoy was anything to go by. Jon sat at his father's desk watching as Sansa paced before him._

_"They respect you, they really do, but you have to..." Sansa told him._

_Jon was glad Sansa was back. That he had her council, Jon just wished he could get rid of Littlefinger. But Sansa bore the man some affection. Jon thought she listened to him too much. Though Jon couldn't understand why, he laughed, and reached over and brushed a lock of Sansa's fiery colored hair from her face._

_"Why are you laughing?" Sansa confused by her brother's actions._

_"What did father use to say? Everything before the word 'but' is horseshit." Jon told her._

Ned wasn't surprised when Jon left Winterfell to go to Dragonstone to meet the Targaryen woman. She had dragons that could be used against the Night King and his army of White Walkers. What did surprise him was how disbelieving she was until she got her proof and lost one of her dragons. Yet, still only worried about gaining the Iron Throne.

_"What do you think I should do?" Daenerys Targaryen is asking Jon's advice if she should evade Kings Landing. It had been a surprise for Jon to learn that Ceresi was dead and had been for the last couple of years. That his sister, Arya had married the previous known Baratheon bastard and was ruling from the Iron Throne._

_Jon never once thought of Ayra as a Queen._

_Arya and her bastard had cleaned up a lot of Ceresi mess. The small folk loved Arya and Gendry because they cared more about the people than power. It showed in the way they had rebuild what the Lannister Queen had destroyed, how they got food when Daenerys's dragons had set fire to the fields and killed livestock._

_Jon did not doubt that if Arya thought Daenerys would make a better ruler for the Seven Kingdoms, she would give up the throne in a heartbeat. But Daenerys's actions had shown this was not the case._

_"I would never presume to..."_

_"I'm losing this war. What do you think I should do?" Daenerys asked. Jon wondered if the Dragon Queen knew that by asking that question she was asking him to betray his family?_

_Jon sighed, "I never thought that dragons would exist again. No one did. The people who follow you knew that you made something impossible happen." And feared her dragons, after all, what sort of choice would a person have? Follow or be killed by dragon's fire, what sort of decision was that, really?_

_Jon knew this woman could never sit on the Iron Throne. She was much too fanatical, believed too firmly in her divine right to rule. It would be her downfall, and Jon was not going to let her take the North with her._

_"Maybe that helps them believe that you can make other impossible things happen. Build a world that's different from the shit one they've always know. But if you use your dragons to melt castles and burn cities, you're not different. You're more of the same. You can kill and destroy on a larger scale." Jon told her as he turned and walked to the door._

_"I haven't given you permission to leave!" Daenerys shouted, angrily._

_"With respect, Your Grace, I don't need your permission. I am a King. Now, I came here, knowing you could have your men behead me or your dragons burn me alive. I put my trust in you. A stranger. Because I knew it was the best chance for my people. For ALL our people!" Jon shouted back, surprising the silver-haired woman._

Ned had never seen Jon react to anyone like he did the Targaryen. Maybe it was something in the blood that they shared that drew Jon to the woman. Even if Jon didn't know at the moment, he did share that blood. Ned could see that Jon was beginning to care for her.

_"If I don't return at least you won't have to deal with the King in the North anymore," Jon said getting up from the bed and dressing. It was probably the worst mistake he had ever made. But Jon couldn't deny how drawn to her as he was, and life was hard and short Jon knew. Best take pleasure where he could from who he could. Yrgitte had taught him that._

_"I've grown used to him," Daenerys said, smiling at Jon from the bed of furs._

This was not going to end well, for many reasons that Ned could see. The North would never bow to this Queen. Jon would never forgive the woman if she became the cause of death to what was left of the Starks.

 

_"No! No!" Jon cried when he saw Daenerys laying crumpled near the bodies of her dead dragons. The Night King died, but the demon had gotten one final blow in before his death. The Night King had sent a wave of icy magic at the dragons freezing them in mid-air, killing them almost instantly. Jon had watched in horror as they had fallen along with Daenerys. Jon had ended the Night King with his flaming Valrylian sword._

_"Don't leave me!" Jon begged, pulling her body into his arms._

_Daenerys blinked up at him, she coughed, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she smiled at him, "You were right," she sighed, "right about everything...and me."_

_"No, I was wrong... You would have made a great Queen, Dany." Jon whispered, lying._

_Daenerys shook her head, " I.."_

_"Hush, don't talk." Jon looked up and yelled for help, but no one came, he looked back at the silver-haired woman in his arms, "We'll get married, and I'll talk Arya into giving up the Iron Throne to you, to us. We'll be good rulers, who love our people. Promise me; you'll stay with me."_

_"You know nothing, Jon Snow." the Mother of Dragon whispered before joining her children._

_Jon Snow screamed at the moment of Daenerys Targaryen's death. Sounding as grief-stricken as any wolf that had lost its mate._

The gods could stop their cruelty anytime now, Ned thought. He wasn't sure how much more tragedy he could take.

_Jon watched the firelight gleam off of Sansa's hair; he drank in the beauty of his cousin. He knew a choice had to be made. Jon wanted nothing more for this woman's happiness but... He also knew that the Lords of the North wanted him to marry into a Southern House. Jon knew he could not, would not do that. Jon wanted someone who knew his people as well as he did. Someone who loved them and this place. He didn't have time to wait for that sort of affection to grow from a southerner. He made his choice. Jon was going to ask Sansa to marry him._

_Jon wanted someone at his side who would watch his back and not stab him in it._


	4. Catelyn Stark

Catelyn Stark wasn't sure what was going on entirely since being woken by her daughters’ screams, but the things she had learned were frightening. Ned's face got harder and grimmer with each...vision? Memory? And while she had never had a great love for Jon Snow, she had never would have wish the things he had suffered on him. She was also furious at Ned for keeping the truth from her. That Jon wasn't **his** bastard but his **sister's,** why hadn't Ned trusted that she could have, would have kept Jon's true parentage the secret it needed to be?

But she remembered that she had been so unforgiving at the sight of Ned cradling that child, in a way he had never cradled the children **she** had borne him.

_"I'm a slow learner, its true," Sansa said, softly, getting Catelyn attention, her voice was flat and cold. Nothing like the happy, innocent girl, Catelyn knew her daughter to be, the one that wanted to be a Queen, "But eventually I do learn."_

_Sansa watched as her father was led out before the crowd. She would never believe the lies of the Lannisters. She did not believe her father was a traitor. This had to be a bad dream, and any moment she would wake up safe in her bed at Winterfell. She watched as to guards forced her father to his knees. Sansa listened when father spoke words, lies that were not his lies against his honor...to save her and Arya... But she and her sister were lost._

_This place was horrid._

_Why didn't I realize that sooner? Sansa wondered as she watched a mask covered man holding an axe, stepped up to her father. No, no... that wasn't going to happen. This was a dream... The axe came down, severing Ned Stark's head from his neck..._

_Sansa screamed._

 

Catelyn watched in horror at the events that unfolded, Ned's death! No, she didn't believe he was a traitor! Anymore than Sansa had. She watched as her daughter was beaten and humiliated by that pretty blonde monster that was king. Catelyn couldn't believe a man like Robert Baratheon had fathered such a creature. Catelyn watched as Sansa was fooled by the false friendship of the Tyrell daughter. Viewed as the dwarf was the only one to stand up to the king against the abuse the boy heaped upon Sansa. As her beautiful Sansa was married to the Lannister Imp, Catelyn saw how he looked at her, with lust in his eyes.

 

_"Do you drink wine?" Tyrion Lannister, her new husband asked, holding out a goblet full of wine. Sansa couldn't believe how the Queen had tricked her! Why were they doing this to her? What had she done to deserve their hatred?_

_"Only when I have too," Sansa muttered unhappily as she began to undress reluctantly, she knew the man was going to want to bed her. It's what she heard what happened on a girl's wedding night. She was glad that Tyrion had stopped the bedding ceremony. Even as young and innocent as she was, Sansa had heard of brides defiled during the Bedding Ceremony by the so-called friends of the groom. With her back turned to her husband, she smirked in remembrance, that this little lord who had threatened the king._

_Tyrion had threatened Joffrey on her behalf! He had threatened his nephew, to keep her safe and the look on that blond monster's face had been epic._

_"Stop!"_

_Sansa turned to look at Tyrion confused, wasn't this expected of her? The question must have shown on her face because her lord husband said,_

_" I can't. Well, I could" he backtracked then seemed to realize that he shouldn't have said that, " but I won't." Tyrion tried to convince Sansa that he meant her no harm._

_"But your father..." Sansa started knowing Tywin Lannister would not be pleased if nothing happened between her and Tyrion this night._

_"If my father wants someone to get fucked, I know where he can start..." Tyrion muttered savagely; he sighed, " I won't share your bed. Not until you want me too."_

_"What if I never want you to?" Sansa demanded to know. Because too many people had lied to her for her to believe his words, and he was so good at them, at face value._

_Tyrion paused as if he hadn't expected the question. But Sansa knew that the man was too smart, for him not to have thought she might have this reaction. Tryion raised his cup to her, with a self-deprecating smile, " ...And so my watch begins," he said before walking to the lounged across the room and passed out on it._

_Sansa sat down on the bed and stared at her new husband for hours. She wondered at the man, that was said to be a whore-mongering, lustful, spiteful, hate-filled, untrustworthy being. Yet, he had been the one being that had treated her well even before they had been forced into this sham of a marriage._

_Sansa did not understand this man at all._

Catelyn narrowed her eyes; she did not like the fact that her daughter was forced to marry the Imp. Nor did she like the fact that her daughter seemed to be softening towards the little bastard.

 

_"You survived another day." Tyrion lips twisted into a smirk, "Sleep well, wife. Cersei just might kill you in the morning." From her husband's tone it was as much as a warning as a jest of amusement, Sansa knew._

Why the Imp thought death threats were amusing Catelyn didn’t know, nor liked.

 

_"You’re my wife now, Sansa. I will not let any of my family hurt you. Or humiliate you." Tryion said. Sansa knew Tyrion would not let any of his family permanently harm her. Tyrion, she had seen, picked his battles carefully when it came to his family._

_Lions were so very different from wolves. They had no loyalty. Not even to each other. The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives... How lonely to be a lion in the Lannister pride?_

_"No?" Sansa scoffs, she narrowed her eyes at him, angrily. Though for the life of her, she didn't understand why she was angry at the small man. He had done no more than any other of his standing would have, Sansa, knew. Yet, the very thought of it enraged her. "You paraded your whore around me in the guise of a servant and made me a laughing stock of the court!"_

_Tyrion rolled his eyes at this, walking over to the table that had a pitcher of wine on it. He picked up the pitcher and a cup, as he muttered, "You survived another day," Tyrion poured himself a cup of wine as Sansa flounce over to the bed and fell on it pouting. "Sleep well, wife; my father will most likely kill you in the morning.”_

A drunk and a whoremonger, just like Catelyn thought, no different than any other nobleman.

_"I'll free you from my family, and my lovely self, milady," Tyrion told Sansa, softly as they stood on the balcony. He would be leaving for battle soon, "You'll see your family again."_

_"Promise me, my lord," Sansa begged, in a tone that matched Tyrion's._

_"It's the one promise I intend to keep," Tyrion stated, before turning and walking back inside, leaving Sansa standing out there on the balcony staring up at the star-filled night sky._

 

Catelyn watched as her daughter stood in the shadows of the throne room and listened to Cersei Lannister tell her youngest son about all the families he would one day rule. The woman’s mad ambition clear for all to see.

 

_"If I'm going to die," Sansa moaned after receiving another beating from the Kingsgaurd on the order of the king. Robb had been winning the war so far. This had been her punishment. Joffery had only got away with it because Tyrion had yet to recover from the wounds he received at Blackwater. " Let it happen while there is still something of me left," Sansa muttered as she picked her self up off the floor of the empty throne room._

Catelyn covered her mouth in shock at how her daughter was treated. Ned pulled her into his arms, muttering under his breath.

 

_"I apologize for my nephew's behavior." Tyrion apologized for his nephew's actions while he was recovering. "He doubts your loyalty."_

_"I'm loyal to King Joffrey," Sansa said sarcasm ringing with her every word._

_"My lady, you just might survive us yet," Tyrion said with ill-concealed admiration in his voice. Sansa couldn't help the blush that came to her cheeks at his words. Though she didn't understand why she felt the need to blush, it was a nice feeling. Then her husband ruined it when he said, " Sleep well, wife." Tyrion toasted her with his wine cup, " Joffery just might kill you in the morning."_

Catelyn wasn’t sure if the Imp even liked Sansa with the way he spoke to her, also if he did do everything he could to protect her.

_"We never should have left Winterfell." Jon Snow said passing Sansa a mug of warm ale._

_"Don't you wish we could go back to the day we left? I want to scream at myself, "don't go, you moron." Sansa asked him._

_"How could we know?" Jon wondered._

_"I spent a lot of time thinking about what an ass I was to you. I wish I could change everything." Sansa regretfully._

_"We were children."_

_"I was awful, just admit it," Sansa said giving Jon a slight smile._

_Jon laughed, "You were occasionally. I'm sure I can't have been great fun, always sulking in the corner while the rest of you played."_

_" Can you forgive me?"_

_"There's nothing to forgive."_

_"Forgive me!"_

_"All right, all right, I forgive you!"_

_They both laughed, at how foolish they were acting, Sansa was glad they could share this bit of good humor. She had the feel Jon knew about as much happiness as Sansa had. "Where will you go?" Sansa finally asked him._

_"Where will 'we' go. If I don't look after you, Father's ghost will come back and murder me." Jon said with a sad smile._

_"What about Winterfell?"_

 

Catelyn preferred the Imp over the Stark bastard. It was hard to give up years of anger and prejudice, though she knew she must. Jon didn’t deserve her hate, even if she didn’t think Jon was good enough for Sansa.

 

_"You said Lord Baelish sold you to the Boltons." Jon demand to know. Sansa knew he was tired of the games she was playing, with him, with the Northern Lords, with Littlefinger. Littlefinger's game was the only one that counted._

_"He did," Sansa admitted, softly._

_"And you trust him?"_

_"Only a fool would trust Littlefinger." Sansa scoffed, dismissively._

 

My old childhood friend, how could you have betrayed me so? Catelyn wondered. Were you still so upset that we never returned your feelings? Perhaps it was cruel of my sister, and I make you think you had a chance at marrying one of us. But we were only foolish girls, that knew nothing of the way the world works. Maybe I deserved what happened to me in the end. But not my family, Catelyn thought.

 

_"What do you want?" Sansa asked the man, whose end game she was beginning to understand._

_"I thought you knew what I wanted." Petyr Baelish stated with a smug smirk._

_"I was wrong."_

_"No. You weren't. Every time I'm faced with a decision I close my eyes and see the same picture. Whenever I consider an action I ask myself' will this help make this picture a reality? Pull it out of my mind into the world?' And only act if the answer is "yes." A picture of me on the Iron Throne...and you by my side." Petyr leans over to kiss Sansa, she raised a hand and stopped him._

_"It's a pretty picture," Sansa admitted before walking away from him. Even if after everything that had happened to her family, to her, she’s tempted at the thought of being the Queen._

_Petyr Baelish on the Iron Throne was the one thing she could not let happen._

 

Oh, Petyr, how low you fell, Catelyn thought.

 

_"You stand accused of murder. You stand accused of treason. How do you answer these charges..." Sansa looked at Littlefinger coldly, "Lord Baelish?"_

_"I publicly declared for House Stark for all to hear." Petyr Baelish said in a truthful tone that made Sansa cringe. She wondered how many other people had fallen for his lies when he used that tone._

_" You've declared for other houses before, Lord Baelish. It's never stopped you from serving your self." Sansa is powering through her doubts and fears. This must be done. This man must pay for his crimes._

_"I loved your mother since I was a boy," Petyr admitted in a desperate bid, looking around the room at the cold faces of the Northern lords and the Vale bannermen._

_"Yet, you betrayed her..." Sansa stated._

_"I love you, Sansa, please!" Petyr gets down on his knees, begging" More than anyone!"_

_"And yet you betrayed me. When you brought me back to Winterfell, you told me there is no justice in the world not unless we make it. Thank you for your many lessons, Lord Baelish..."_

_Sansa motions with her hand and one of the soldiers for House Stark stepped up behind Petyr Baelish, drew his knife and slit Petyr Baelish's throat with a smooth movement of his blade._

_"I will never forget them," Sansa said as Baelish grabbed at his throat, she watched dispassionately, as the man who had wronged her family so severely died on the floor of Winterfell, with as much interest as a cat watched an already dead mouse._

Catelyn closed her eyes so that she could block out the sight of her childhood friend. At the sight of her favorite child, commanding the death of a man without even a flinch.

 

_Sansa sat in her mother's solar and thought long and hard on the proposal Jon had offered her. It was one of the best she would ever receive now. Twice-wed, both husbands’ dead. Tyrion had fallen in the battle with the White Walkers. Protecting Podrick as the squire lay wounded. Tyrion Lannister was the husband she would miss, Sansa, thought to herself, he had been kind to her and protected her. Sansa hoped someone would write a song about her noble husband's bravery. Sansa knew Jon didn't love her. Not in the way, a man loved a woman, but he did like her. That he was a good man and would be loyal to her and treat her with gentleness, those were more important things than the romantic love of a song._

_To be Queen of Jon's King was no small thing, Sansa knew. There were other Houses in which Jon could seek a wife. It was an honor to House Stark that the Targaryen heir chose her to be his wife._

_And Sansa knew how much Jon would need her in the upcoming years of his rule._

_To be Queen._

_It was what she always wanted when she was younger._

_It wasn't what she wanted any more. And what, no, **who** , she did want she couldn't have. _

_Long live the Queen._

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll add more pairings and characters as they come.  
> IF you don't like the spelling or grammar? Go read some one else's stuff, please. I don't want to hear it in the comments.  
> My Tumblr : lln3dseethelight.tumblr.com  
> Come talk to me


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